


Two and a Half Dumbasses

by scrawly_times



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Future vision is not easy, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Nonbinary Character, Oracles, Other, Quests, and oc centered, but it is Primarily from dict's POV and about them all being walking disasters, dictatious centered, slight crack, there will be a fuckton of ocs!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23126797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrawly_times/pseuds/scrawly_times
Summary: Dictatious gets kidnapped. Except he doesn't.Why on earth HE'S supposed to be helping stop the apocalyptic end of times or whatever he doesn't know, but he guesses it'll be worth it to hear the befuddled look on Blinkous's face after. He also really, really missed being an adviser. The fact that the job of babysitter gets thrown in with this troll is a downside but it's not often you can wax philosophy with a whelp and get coherent debates back, so Dictatious counts it as a win.OR in which the Three Musketeers of Walking Disasters go on a quest and they somehow stumble into saving the world without anyone knowing about it.
Relationships: Dictatious (Tales of Arcadia)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	1. Kidnapped???

**Author's Note:**

> HEY WHATSUP it's me, ya boi, throwin that OC content at ya 
> 
> If you want some prior context about the OCs involved go check out my trollhunters tumblr @weregreatatcrime or the OC blog solely for the ones who're gonna be talked about here @grawnahsmarket! 
> 
> This is all gonna be from Dictatious's POV primarily, so it'll be fun! Writing blind characters is a great challenge for paying attention to the environment. Yes, there will be some slowburn Dictatious/OC. Yes, the child is going to be trying to set them up the Entire Time. 
> 
> Yes, there will be shenanigans. Dictatious is an absolute fucking delight to write for. I suggest having dictionary.com open in another tab, you might need it.

A stone hand grabbed Dictatious’s shoulder and he froze, hands buried in a dumpster and nose filled with the stench of garbage. 

“You. Come with me, immediately.” A deep, smooth voice said. It had no inflection or emotion and Dictatious couldn’t tell whether the speaker was male or female. 

“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline-” Dictatious forced a fake smile on his face but the hand on his shoulder tightened and was joined by a second, smaller hand. Judging by the fingers, a troll with two sets of arms. 

“I insist.” The neutral voice didn’t waver. 

“Come with us if you want to live!” A squeaky voice said, then giggled. 

Dictatious blinked, even if he couldn’t see, and turned around carefully as he extracted himself from the dumpster he’d been rummaging through. 

“Who are you, why are you kidnapping me, and why do you have... a whelp?” Dictatious squinted at the figure he could see, mostly just a blurry shape. A second much shorter shape bounced next to it. How hadn’t he heard them walking up to him? He could understand not being able to smell them coming with a dumpster in his face but he didn’t think they were being particularly stealthy.

“I’m not kidnapping you, I’m _preventing_ you from being kidnapped.” The smooth voice left its monotone for a moment to dip into annoyance. “Now come with us before it’s too late.” 

“I promise we’ll explain later but it’s _super_ important and we’re running late already!” The squeaky voice said with a whine. 

Dictatious considered this. 

Then he shrugged and sighed because frankly, he wouldn’t be able to resist an attacker if the smooth voice decided to _insist._ The whelp was throwing him off guard as well. 

Also, Dictatious didn’t have anything better to do anyways. He was getting, dare he say it, _bored._

“If you’re ‘not kidnapping me’ then I should leave Nancy a note saying I’ll be gone or she’ll send her grandson and his ‘Wingman’ out to look for me.” Dictatious said carelessly as he nodded in agreement.

“We’ll do that later!” Squeaky voice said. “Now shhh! We gotta go!” 

Almost immediately the hands moved from his shoulder to his arm. The whelp grabbed his lower hand on the opposite side and both trolls proceeded to drag him behind them at a run. He _hated_ being dragged but the speed the two were going was far too fast for him to shuffle blindly behind him. At least they were doing a decent job of not just pulling his feet out from under him. If their dragging made him fall on his face he would put up a fight but for now he was rather inclined to obey the mysterious trolls he couldn’t exactly defend himself against. 

Dictatious had no idea where he was being taken but it was something like thirty minutes later when the two trolls slowed down from their mad rush, the smell and dampness of the sewer telling Dictatious where they’d taken him. 

“Is it safe?” Squeaky voice asked curiously, with almost zero actual concern. Dictatious had forgotten how bizarre whelps’ lack of fear could be. 

“Perhaps. If it is not then we will not survive the day.” The smooth voice said without pause. 

“Worm.” Squeaky voice didn’t sound particularly bothered by the worrying proclamation. Dictatious was far more concerned. 

“Please stop saying that word in that context.” 

“Since we’re either not going to die or… _are_ going to die,” Dictatious scoffed and pulled his arms away from the hands holding onto him. They let him go easily. “Do you mind telling me who you are what _precisely_ you think you’re doing?” He couldn’t see anything at all in the low light of the tunnel but they were letting him walk at his own pace now. He was glad to get his hands on the cold brick of the tunnel walls. 

“My name is Virepa Anant.” The smooth voice said promptly. 

“I’m Faber!” Squeaky voice said cheerily. 

“Fantastic! I have never heard of either of you.” Dictatious deadpanned. 

“You may know me by my title of Oracle.” Virepa said and Dictatious’s brain… to borrow a human phrase, _broke for a moment._

“Excuse me?” He stopped walking to make a face and stare at the two with as much doubt a blind troll could muster. “The _Oracle?_ Divine prophet of the stars themselves? The one who forewarned the use of Killahead Bridge to Deya the Deliverer? The same Oracle who hides away to keep their prophecies from other trolls, only rarely sending messages to those it deemed worthy? The one whose writings and counsel are so rare and treasured countless trolls have murdered, thieved, and pillaged for?” Dictatious was _extremely_ suspicious but the idea they were telling the _truth_ made him feel a little lightheaded. 

“That would be me, unfortunately.” The Oracle did not sound impressed with his summary. Faber’s childish laughter echoed through the tunnels. 

“What…” His mind kicked back in at full speed and he felt a touch of nervousness. “You said you were _preventing_ me from being kidnapped.” 

“Yes, by a rather nasty troll. You wouldn’t like to know what she had planned for you. That fate wasn’t _initially_ certain but by the time we arrived and figured out how to find you she was already present. I don’t know if she will attack the humans while searching for you, but she is furious about…” Virepa’s voice petered off slightly. “Something. You did something, or didn’t do something, I’m not sure, but she is _definitely_ furious about it.” 

“I… what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up?” Dictatious was both frightened and _incredibly_ curious, more fascinated than he had ever been. He nearly tripped over a ledge and faceplanted into the wall he was so focused on the Oracle’s words. 

“I don’t know.” The Oracle’s voice broke from its monotone again to sudden aggression. “The future is not cut in stone. It is not _solid._ And I _certainly_ do not get clear visions of it to begin with!” 

“Ohhhh, you got them started!” Faber whispered with a shaky laugh. 

“I did not _‘see’_ you being kidnapped, I had multiple flashes and out of body experiences _including_ at least two auditory hallucinations and losing my sight multiple times! I had _hints_ of what would happen to you, I did not _know_ for sure if it would happen at all!” Virepa raged, fury emanating from them. Dictatious backed away slightly as he heard cloth rustling as they moved closer to him, intimidating since the other troll was slightly taller. “I see, hear, feel, am told - bits and pieces in the most _bizarre_ ways and perhaps the _majority_ of the things I foresee are _useless_ and I have to sort through them for the faint _hint_ of anything useful!” 

Something grabbed Dictatious’s shoulders and pulled him close to Virepa. He realized suddenly as hands surrounded him that the Oracle had _six_ arms, all different sizes. Presumably, the taller troll was holding him close to their face to emphasize their point. He was annoyed at the fact that

“And nothing is for certain! And nothing is at the correct _time!_ I saw Trollmarket’s Heartstone bleeding out _as it happened!_ I stood and watched in another time and place as the last of the unicorns was felled! I witnessed the last troll to exist breathe her last breath last night and I saw _you_ being attacked, being taken, being the first _domino_ in the horrible final mess that is our current situation _centuries ago!”_

Dictatious was shaken back and forth roughly and Virepa hissed in front of him. 

“You have _no_ idea how directionless I actually am, do not even _begin_ to dare presuming that I know _anything_ of the future for certain!” Their voice was dangerously close to his face, he could feel their breath hissing in his eyes and he blinked nervously. “Do not _dare_ ask me what is or what will be, because I will leave you to your fate and force another way to fix the mess that is slowly beginning to tumble!” 

The sewer tunnel was silent except for the Oracle’s frantic panting and the faint hissing under their breath. 

“I- I do _sincerely_ apologize, I was unaware it was so... challenging,” Dictatious scrambled to throw together something to calm them down. “It should have been obvious in retrospect, foretelling the future would not be easy-” 

Virepa hissed all the air in their lungs out and somehow. 

Somehow. 

Dictatious could see. 

Not much. Only the four black, empty eyes staring into his soul. 

**“THE SEEING NEVER TRULY SEE. THE BLIND DO NOT WANDER THE DARKNESS ALONE.”**

Their voice was no longer smooth, now raspy and grating against Dictatious’s ears so toxically he grimaced. The words tore into him and made his very _being_ shudder in horror. It filled him with fear and an ominous sense of foreboding that crawled up his spine and scratched every inch of him along the way. 

“Vira?” 

Faber’s childish voice echoed in his ears oddly and Dictatious shook his head. His sight was gone again, but those black eyes were burned into his mind. He didn’t think he’d ever forget them. 

“Viraaaa, Vira come on.” Faber’s hands wiggled in between Virepa’s hands where they clawed Dictatious in a death grip. The whelp managed to loosen one hand at a time until the Oracle was no longer holding on. 

The instant Virepa was no longer touching Dictatious it was as if his mind snapped back to life and he gasped, stumbling backwards. He landed on his tail on the ground with a grunt but didn’t react otherwise. He was too dazed. 

The seeing never truly see. The blind do not wander the darkness alone. 

There was no doubt in Dictatious’s mind that he had just been given some sort of- prophecy, or warning, or _something_ because it resonated deep inside of him in a way that made irrational fear spring up when he tried to think of the words. His rational mind was refusing to comment and challenge it. He was terrified of just two sentences. 

“You okay?” Faber crouched down next to him and he jumped slightly. “Sorry, I know it’s weird to be on the end of Virepa’s weird stuff.” 

“I’m… I’m alright,” Dictatious said shakily. “I suppose you wouldn’t have much insight as to what just occurred.” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Faber sounded confused and a little offended. 

“Because you’re…” Dictatious tilted his head somewhat, wondering why he couldn’t hear Virepa. Wait, no, there they were, shallow breathing with the occasional hitch. It was… worryingly quiet in the sewer tunnels. “You’re a whelp. Speaking of, _why_ does the Oracle have a whelp following them around?” 

“I’m their _Apprentice,_ duh, so even if I _am_ a whelp I have _plenty_ of insight.” Judging by his voice Dictatious would assume Faber was getting puffed up like any offended whelp. 

“...you’re their Apprentice.” Dictatious was a bit embarrassed and also glad to at least have gender neutral pronouns confirmed for Virepa, whos voice was so monotone it was hard to detect any particular lilt to it. He’d been guessing, referring to the Oracle as they. 

“My parents had to send me to Virepa a few years ago,” Faber said, shuffling noises indicating he was sitting down next to Dictatious. “I kept seeing things and acting weird and doing not very trollish stuff. They still visit but I live with Vira now. Which is cool! They’re my older sibling now, and I’m their little brother.” Dictatious could _hear_ the grin on the whelp’s face. “But only I can call them Vira, you have to call them Virepa. Not Oracle either. They get _super_ annoyed when people act like they’re all high and mighty.” 

“So I can tell.” Dictatious mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. “So _do_ you have any commentary on the… the _thing_ they just said to me? I… I can’t seem to focus on it for very long right now.” 

“The seeing never truly see. The blind do not wander the darkness alone.” Faber quoted easily. “They Said it, so it’s probably more advice based or a warning than a straight up prophecy. It sounds like it could be either positive or ominous so I’d say keep that in mind.” 

“Said?” Dictatious asked cautiously. There was a strange emphasis to the word. 

“Yeah, Said.” Faber fidgeted idly with something large. “It means… like, they’re not seeing something, or foretelling, or whatever, kinda… the words Exist, and they’re just the mouth the words put themselves through.” 

“It’s a statement, rather than a possibility.” Dictatious pondered. 

“Hey, that’s it exactly!” Faber brightened up considerably. “You’re pretty good at this metarelative stuff.” 

“It’s not typically my specialty, but I’ve been known to engage in philosophical debates.” Dictatious felt the last dregs of fear finally trickling away. “Though we are speaking an exceedingly simplified version of very complex and nuanced matters.” 

“Don’t complicate it anymore than it already is.” Faber said far more seriously than a whelp should sound. “If you do you’ll just end up going crazy.” 

“How _old_ are you?” Dictatious tilted his ears towards the whelp with a frown. 

“I’m eighty-nine!” Faber chirped. “Gonna turn ninety soon! But in human years I’m fourteen.” 

“I believe it translates more to _ten,_ quite frankly, though why you include human years I dread to know.” Dictatious shook his head. 

“Four years ago, maybe.” Faber sounded mischievous. 

Before Dictatious could interrogate the whelp on the mystery of _that_ statement there was a groan in the direction that Virepa’s breathing was coming from. 

“You’re alive!” Faber cheered, standing up and running over to them. Now that Dictatious was paying attention there was a strange lag and hop to his gait. “Hear me?” 

“Everything accounted for, including the newly input fear of corn products.” Virepa said faintly. 

“What?” Dictatious questioned. 

“That’s not the weirdest thing Virepa’s gotten.” Faber snickered. “Remember what happened to you?” 

“Yes, it wasn’t until after I Spoke that I fell to another vision.” Virepa didn’t seem particularly concerned. 

“I feel as if I should be concerned but also, I don’t actually care.” Dictatious said to himself. 

“Good.” Virepa deadpanned. 

“That’s the way to do it!” Faber laughed. 

“You two are baffling.” He shook his head. “I do have a question though, do you go comatose after those sorts of things very often? Because between that, a whelp, and an old blind troll I don’t believe we can evade many possible pursuers.” 

There was an awkward silence. Water dripped somewhere. 

“You’re blind?” Faber asked innocently. “You didn’t say he was blind!” 

“I did, actually, I said there was a rather good chance that he would be crippled in some major way.” Virepa responded. “Though it also begs the question of why you didn’t notice from his eyes being whited out.” 

“So? Your eyes are _black_ all the way, but you can see!” 

“That’s different.” Virepa had a remarkable amount of patience with a whelp for a troll who had just torn into Dictatious for a few idle comments. 

Dictatious covered his face with his hands, getting a sinking feeling that this was how his entire night was going to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Virepa 'sees' the future. Yes, they know there's a high likelihood of them and Dictatious getting together. No, they don't care just yet. Faber knows and he is ABSOLUTELY trying to subtly get them together. 
> 
> We're given relatively little about troll aging but I prefer to assume 100 is about when most trolls stop being 'little kids'. Faber is an interesting and unique case though, as you'll find out. 
> 
> If Virepa's comments and prophecies confuse you, then good, you're feeling a Fraction of the confusion they feel 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed! Again go check out my tumblrs if you wanna see what the disaster duos look like, since Dictatious can't really see I don't see it as something I should describe just yet. I should probably mention that while I can't remember if it's canon or not, Dictatious CAN see changes in light levels and blurry movements if they're large enough. Most blindness isn't 100% blackness. It's really interesting writing for him since he's still relatively 'new' to being blind. 
> 
> I place this fic as happening about.... eh, eight months after the final Trollhunters episode, let's say. (It takes about six months to cross the US on foot, and that's a conservative number, so with a bunch of trolls along I like to think that's how long it takes them to reach New Jersey.) The Trollmarket group have Just reached New Jersey and are trying to get it set up rn.


	2. ???

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen! Everyone nearly dies! Dictatious just wants to be able to read again goddamnit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know I feel I should've added the 'Slightly Crack' tag to this fic before now but i feel it wouldn't have been truly understood until this chapter 
> 
> Prepare to have your mind boggled by the nonsensical nature of future telling!

“Why are we in Trollmarket’s ruins?” Dictatious grumbled, shuffling along behind Virepa. Faber followed up behind him and hummed some tune idly. Dictatious could have sworn it was a human song. 

It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do than follow the Oracle around after they had potentially saved his life. Besides, Dictatious had his curiosity. He wanted to know  _ why  _ he was involved in whatever they had come to Arcadia for. Virepa had mentioned a troublesome trip and Faber had giggled but had not they explained much else yet. 

“We have a small corner set up down here, though we’ll be leaving now that we’ve confirmed your involvement and the krubera hunting you.” Virepa said idly. 

Dictatious nearly tripped over his own feet.  _ “Krubera? ... _ Usurna?!  _ She’s  _ the one who potentially is trying to kill me?” 

“Potentially! You’re catching on!” Faber said quietly. Neither of them acknowledged him. 

“I have no idea, all I know is it is a krubera. Very distinctive lighting on those trolls.” Virepa paused momentarily. “That’s all I know of the potential attacker, truthfully.” They cleared their throat and clearly quoted something. “‘Lights of the deep stars shine from the lady who is naught but muck.’ Accompanied by a brief visual flash of just the lights of a krubera amidst blackness. Very peculiar. Took me a while to realize it was related to this string of scenarios.” 

“That was after you projected into a dark pit of stars, right?” Faber wondered. “And connected some of the dark themed visions.” 

“Correct.” 

“I don’t understand.” Dictatious reluctantly stated. 

“That’s the only part of this that  _ is  _ understandable.” Virepa drawled. “The  _ fact  _ that it is not understandable.” 

“You’re starting to get it!!” Faber laughed again. 

Walking through the ruins of Trollmarket was… unsettling. Dictatious nearly shuddered at the sheer silence of it. There was the faint scent of troll blood to this day even. Fortunately the ‘corner’ the two had claimed was out of the way and Dictatious  _ hadn’t  _ tripped through any piles of dead or dusted trolls. 

“You cannot see it, which is a bit of a crux in my sketchy plan,” Virepa admitted. “But we have on the walls here all the information and visions I have had that we believe tie into the series of scenarios that are lining up.” 

He walked towards the wall and patted it carefully. Papers were pinned up haphazardly, everywhere. 

_ Everywhere.  _

He wasn’t sure he would be able to understand them if he  _ could  _ read them. 

“Perhaps you might give me a summary?” Dictatious suggested. “I can offer my assistance, I’m not capable of much these days but I’m an excellent advisor.” He would have never survived under Gunmar if he wasn’t. 

“You’re crucial to the final turning point in keeping the worst from happening, so yes, your assistance is needed.” Virepa stood next to him and Faber circled around to his other side. 

“How so?” Dictatious frowned thoughtfully. 

“Keep in mind, nothing is certain and everything is suspect. Also, that my visions make little to no sense, and often I cannot even recall them properly afterwards.” Virepa said firmly. 

“Noted.” 

“Firstly, you are the first point where the domino line of events happens.” There was the sound of rustling cloth and presumably what was Virepa tapping papers. “You are, were, will be attacked, captured, by the krubera of the muck. That is the line where things are worse. Presumably.” 

Dictatious nodded slowly, processing that. “While my importance these days is negligible, my brother  _ is  _ the leader of the new Heartstone in New Jersey and the mentor of the Trollhunter. I would be leverage or merely just a way to upset any number of situations.” Well, he doubted Blinkous would be particularly  _ concerned  _ if Dictatious were harmed but- 

“There’s a new Heartstone?” Faber chirped curiously. 

“Later.” Virepa kept them on topic and huffed. “Here’s where things get bizarre. This could mean that, these could be those, and nothing makes  _ sense-”  _

“It’s okay! See look, I put numbers on them so we could remember what we decided meant what.” Faber interrupted Virepa before they could get angry. “See, it’s all about the Trollhunter. If- huh. What  _ is _ your name?” 

“...Dictatious.” He couldn’t believe he hadn’t introduced himself yet. He couldn’t believe they hadn’t even bothered  _ asking  _ him for his name. 

“Right! If Mister Dictatious doesn’t get caught, the line skips a lot of the potential dominos-” There was the sound of papers being taken down. “Wait, no, these ones are still possible, but they’re weird.” 

“Does that include the corn?” Virepa sounded concerned. 

“The corn is always a threat, apparently?” Faber also sounded concerned. Dictatious was very confused. 

“Anyways- so like, see?” More papers shuffling. Dictatious wished he could just  _ see  _ them. “There’s a lot of potential bad events going on, but without Mister Dictatious they all go to the Trollhunter instead of spreading out.” 

“Jim?” Dictatious asked, just to clarify. “Is this something to be concerned about?” 

“Potentially, he will handle them.” Virepa shrugged. “And is not something I may interfere with anyways. I cannot see the Trollhunter, something about Merlin’s Amulet messes up probabilities.” 

“That is… exceedingly unhelpful.” Dictatious said, aghast. “How do you know he will be involved?” 

“Blank spots and a lot of extrapolation.” Virepa deadpanned. “If you could see the wall you would be even more confused, we are condensing it into something less incomprehensible. If this is probably that, but that probably cannot be this, and that is probably  _ those,  _ the Trollhunter is probably involved.” 

Dictatious felt a headache coming on. “I feel as if you use words without actually saying anything yet I’m getting  _ just  _ enough meaning through to be confused by it.” 

“I’m having to translate often incomprehensible experiences into words, that is almost precisely what is happening.” Virepa sighed. “I cannot tell you how many times the apocalyptic end of times has snuck up on me.” 

If  _ that  _ wouldn’t make even Gunmar do a doubletake Dictatious would have been surprised. 

“Anyways-” 

“Are you not going to clarify that last point??” Dictatious wheezed. Faber patted his arm consolingly. 

“It’s not as big a deal as you think, but wayyy bigger than it should be.” He said seriously. That made absolutely zero sense. 

_ “Anyways.”  _ Virepa insisted. “Thank you, Faber. The events that may possibly happen from here all focus around the void of presence that is the Trollhunter. Also some powerful entity that may or may not be Merlin or the Pale Lady, it’s hard to tell but it’s probably one of them. Not many powerful magic users these days to create a magical atom bomb.” 

“How do you know what an  _ atom bomb  _ is, Vira?” Faber sounded baffled. Dictatious wondered how  _ Faber  _ knew what an atom bomb was. 

“Do you know how many times I’ve experienced one?” Virepa dismissed him nonchalantly. “However. Things happen, many things, and I don’t  _ tell the future.  _ I am  _ presented  _ with  _ probabilities.  _ And it is a pain.” 

“So I can tell.” Dictatious rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Are we leading up to something?” 

“There is a human sorceress that needs a weapon, or object to channel magic, or something. She needs something and we need to go get it.” Virepa said bluntly. 

“I don’t understand, you just said you-” Dictatious’s frustration was halted in its tracks. 

“The probability of the prior problems becoming apocalyptic are minimal. The probability of them becoming apocalyptic over time  _ if she does not have a tool  _ are astronomical.” Virepa’s voice was dead serious. “If I am receiving vaguely coherent visions regularly seeing varying possibilities of you delivering a tool, weapon, or magic item to her, then that probability is  _ high.  _ My visions are incomprehensible because whatever being gives them to me doesn’t care about tiny problems like war and genocide. Apocalypses, now  _ those  _ tend to make my visions become more understandable.” 

Dictatious stopped to digest that for a moment. Virepa and Faber respectfully stayed quiet. 

“Is that why you need me?” He said eventually, frowning thoughtfully. “Because I have to be the one to deliver it?” 

“I have not witnessed a single successful delivery of the tool to the sorceress that did not involve  _ you _ personally handing it to her.” Virepa confirmed. “And there have been a lot. I’ve been receiving these visions on and off in between others for centuries.” There was a rustle of multiple papers bundled together. Quite a stack, if his ears were right. “Trying to figure out if a vision is still relevant or if it’s just a reoccuring past event is a pain in the ass.” 

“Alright. Any other particular reason for me to go along with what may possibly end up nonessential in the first place?” Dictatious demanded. 

“He’s learning!” Faber giggled. 

“So he is.” Virepa sounded… faintly amused. “It may not end up necessary, indeed. Such is the stupidity of knowing fate. It  _ changes.”  _

“How do you even know it’s  _ me  _ in the first place?” Dictatious grumbled. “It may be my brother Blinkous, we look rather similar to someone who apparently can’t even tell I’m blind.” 

“Several reasons,” Virepa admitted. “But primarily because you don’t have a Trollhunter - or warping void - at your side distorting your existence from my sight.” 

Paper rustled. Faber made a noise of realization. 

“This one says the other ‘troll that looked the fucking same in blurry vision’ Vira, that’s a bad word!” Dictatious resisted the urge to snort. “Well Vira wrote several times that the troll looked the same. Or similar… or opposite? Or… hm… doesn’t always pop up and sometimes Vira forgot to write details, or there weren’t any. But Vira said a few times that he was ‘speechless’ and said everyone was surprised!” Faber sounded remarkably cheerful. “Well one time everyone was yelling but there was lava in that one, so I don’t think it counts.” 

Dictatious filtered that while Faber went on to elaborate multiple instances of the vision in every probability. One had goblins eating them all halfway through. 

“You’re saying I’ll get a chance to hear Blinkous  _ speechless?”  _ Dictatious felt a small grin grow on his face. “I’m willing to join your befuddling quest just for the chance to witness that.” 

“Excellent, because again, I’m fairly certain  _ you _ need to be the one to hand the tool to the sorceress.” Virepa said plainly. 

A loud bang echoed through the caverns, only audible because of the sheer silence of the abandoned Trollmarket. 

“Oh no.” Faber inched close to Dictatious’s side. “What was that?” 

“Probably not anything good.” Dictatious said quietly as there was a roar of rage in the distance. “Do you believe Usurna may still be looking for me?” 

“Likely?” Virepa sounded unsure, grabbing papers off the wall and shoving them into a bag. “This was not something I saw. I interfered so things must go differently. The curse of fate.” Faber helped them pull papers down. 

“I won’t be safe in Arcadia,” Dictatious hissed, hunching in on himself and wishing he had a stick. 

“Then come with us!” Faber whispered. “We’re gonna go back to Graw’Nah’s Market, we took the Gyre here. It was kinda broken halfway so it was a really bumpy ride.” 

“Graw’Nah’s Market?” Dictatious’s ears twitched. That name sounded only vaguely familiar. 

“My home of several centuries, a private town full of good trolls.” Virepa explained as they rushed around. “Even if they follow us they won’t be able to get in. The Gyre station on Trollmarket’s end is demolished, they won’t be able to call another wheel.” 

“And you can join us on our quest when we go look for the sorceress’s tool!” Faber bounced slightly, though from excitement or nerves he couldn’t tell. “Unless you want to just stay safe and hidden in the Market, that’d be oka-” 

The sudden lack of noise from the whelp was mildly concerning, the  _ clunk  _ of him hitting the floor made Dictatious jump. 

“What? What happened?” He waved his hands in front of him, trying to find Faber. “Is he alright?” 

“Oh of ALL the times-!” Virepa hissed furiously and touched Dictatious’s hand. “He’s fine, it’s part of his abilities, he cannot control sleeping. He won’t wake up from anything we do and we don’t have time for this!” They pulled Dictatious’s hand to Faber’s body on the floor, moving up and down as he breathed worryingly shallowly. “If I grab mine and Faber’s things can you carry him?” 

“I- I suppose?” Dictatious was honestly just surprised they were giving him something to  _ do  _ other than ‘stay out of the way’. “Don’t get mad if I trip and fall on him though, I  _ am  _ blind, and I doubt our trip out of here will be smooth.” 

“He trips over his own tail enough I wouldn’t blame you.” Virepa snapped out and then whirled away to continue grabbing things and shoving it in their bag. 

Dictatious felt out the whelp’s general outline carefully, trying to find a way to pick him up that didn’t result in toppling over on the first try. He was a generic troll shape - two legs, two arms, short neck - except for the fact that his tail was the size of the rest of him! No wonder Faber walked strangely, he probably had to literally carry his tail or drag it behind him and risk tripping. 

He eventually picked the whelp up slowly, disturbed by the absolute bonelessness of Faber in his sleep. The ridiculous tail made carrying him twice as difficult than it needed to be. 

Then came the arduous task of running behind Virepa, listening closely to the loud clacking of their feet, and trying to avoid stumbling over himself. Dictatious nearly fell over several times. 

“YOU!” A familiar venomous voice yelled and Dictatious yelped as something flew over his shoulder. “It’s all YOUR fault! You filthy, treacherous  _ cur!  _ We could have had it all! Glory for trollkind! The Krubera, above the earth with their kin! Where they BELONG!” Usurna  _ wailed,  _ voice high pitched and nowhere near the elegant calm he remembered. 

What had  _ happened  _ to her? How had she fallen to  _ this? _ Clearly the muck she’d fallen in had filled her head because her raving didn’t stop. Nor did the needles flying towards them. 

Virepa hissed loudly and warningly, clacking feet speeding up. 

“I would much prefer I carry the important documents and  _ you  _ carry the unconscious whelp!” Dictatious yelped, stumbling again. His legs were  _ not _ made for running! Virepa’s stride was  _ much  _ longer and they were keeping ahead of Dictatious by far. 

“We both agree on that, then, but I wouldn’t be able to!” Virepa called back. Their voice had a tinge of panic to it. “My feet are about the size of a coin!” 

That  _ would  _ explain the near click of their steps. Virepa would probably be more likely to fall over than  _ Dictatious  _ with such little surface to grab with. Their sprint was far too bouncy and needed too much balance to be carrying a whelp along with them. Good for climbing narrow spaces and finding tiny footholds. Not good for bearing loads. 

_ Why  _ was he wasting brainpower pondering Virepa’s  _ feet  _ when he should be focused on running as fast as he could? Dictatious wanted to hit himself. He felt satisfied enough when he stubbed his foot hard enough to crack and cursed vehemently. 

Right now it was far more important to focus on keeping himself upright. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if this chapter made any sense then I did my job wrong 
> 
> "Such is the stupidity of knowing fate. It changes.” is one of the rawest fucking lines I've ever written and y'all won't believe how proud of it I am 
> 
> Listen Dictatious is probably gonna die and has an opportunity to show up Blinky he'll take it. Also, he's a little fucking stir crazy and feeling bored as shit. I just have a hard time believing that a troll who spent centuries being a tool and adviser for a more powerful troll would just... be comfortable sitting on a couch watching crime shows all day. Blinky has an innate need to be doing something useful, why not Dictatious too? Even if that means tagging along with some wackjob with future visions and probably dying along the way it's better than being a couch potato 
> 
> So! Things have happened! Things continue to happen! 
> 
> (Virepa has lil spider bean feets - it's adorable but they are not good at carrying people)


	3. This Little Dicky Went to Market

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dictatious escapes by the skin of his teeth and probably nearly gets a concussion, but it's fine, he's fiiiine 
> 
> Also, he is intimidated by kindness. A LOT of kindness. And then some not so kind kindness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OCS AHOY Y'ALL LMAO 
> 
> Here's where everything starts entering OC territory, bcz Graw'Nah's Market is an entire troll town made of OCs bcz i'm Like That. 
> 
> Reminder that Virepa goes by they/them pronouns, if you catch yourself getting confused. :) When writing from Dictatious's included perspective I try to keep everything solely focused on the sorts of details he would notice as a blind person, more sensations, smells, and sounds. Visual descriptions are pretty low in this. I try to have it that way bcz it's fun to write that way :P It really makes you pay attention to your story's surroundings!

Usurna chased after them screaming and cursing, sounding… deranged. She seemed to blame him for losing her kingdom? Dictatious didn’t understand her thought process nor did he want to. ‘Krubera of the Muck’ indeed, she’d breathed too much of the slop in his opinion. Nothing she said seemed to make sense. 

Yet another thin projectile whistled through the air around him and Dictatious prayed to the stars that her aim remained terrible. She was equipped and trained for close combat, not long range. He also hoped that he didn’t trip over any of her damned needles and get Creeper’s Sun in his  _ feet.  _ It sounded like a long, painful way to die. 

“This way!” Virepa’s voice was further away than he would like. 

Dictatious was having a very hard time keeping this pace up. He didn’t  _ run.  _ He didn’t carry unconscious whelps with ridiculous tails that made Faber keep nearly slipping out of his grasp. He was losing steam quickly, despite the fear of Usurna catching up to him. 

He started to wheeze and lose what little footing he had, stumbling more and more often. 

Fortunately they came to the Gyre station faster than Dictatious expected and Virepa sprinted ahead. 

“It’s a straight shot!” They yelled back, hopefully running ahead to get the wheel started. “It’s a ways down the tunnel!” 

Right, the Gyre station itself was broken. 

...how had they  _ arrived  _ without the Gyre wheel smashing into a wall and killing them? 

Dictatious shook his head and tried to force himself to stop  _ thinking  _ for once, pouring every ounce of fear into his feet. Gyre tunnels were smooth and even. Without having to worry about  _ what  _ he was running over Dictatious could finally sprint at his mediocre full speed without the risk of tripping and smashing his face in. 

Usurna’s thunderous steps arrived in the tunnel far sooner than he would like. 

A whistle next to his ear, so close he felt the wind from the needle's passage. Dictatious whined and somehow picked up the pace. 

“HEADS UP!” Virepa’s voice slipped from its monotone into a slight shriek and Dictatious was confused until he slammed into the Gyre wheel at full speed. 

Everything swam for a moment, nothing making sense. Dictatious was vaguely aware of hands grabbing him and pulling him. He came to when reality  _ lurched  _ into high speed and he remembered how much he used to love gyre rides. 

And discovered how much he  _ absolutely did not love them  _ when he couldn’t see and didn’t have anything to cling on to for dear life. 

Oh look, something to cling on to! 

Some indeterminable time later that felt like hours but could have been a mere minute, Dictatious’s head stopped lurching and he realized he was hugging two of Virepa’s arms like pillows. 

“S- sorr-” Dictatious’s stomach voiced its disapproval of the trip. He barely managed to turn away from the Oracle before losing what little he had in it. 

Virepa didn’t say anything, mumbling what appeared to be curses under their breath. The sound of their feet clicking around the gyre echoed in his head while he heaved. 

“I could use some assistance, Crook.” 

Dictatious’s ears twitched and he vaguely took in the sound of heavier footsteps. 

“Sure thing, ‘Repa.” A deep voice laughed and Dictatious felt the Gyre tilt as a giant troll stepped aboard. “Darn, what happened to you two? Pick up a straggler?” 

“Something like that.” Virepa said blankly, clearly ignoring his questions. “I need help getting Faber back to my cave and Dictatious might need some assistance as well.” 

“I’ll- I’ll be fine, just give me a moment.” He waved a hand in the direction of their voices and rubbed his chest with a groan. 

“Well it’s nice ta meetcha, Dictatious, I’m Crook. Kinda the security ‘round Graw’Nah’s Market here.” Somehow Dictatious could tell Crook was smiling widely at him. “Course, usually not much to do other than drag ‘Repa and Faber home when they have ep’sodes.” He was struggling to pin Crook’s accent. It didn’t sound like any trollish accent he’d ever heard before. “Say, why don’t y’all go to Graw’Nah’s cave and say ‘llo? She’ll want ta meeta newcomer anyways, might as well get it over with.” 

“I suppose.” Virepa huffed reluctantly. “Could you bring Faber back to our cave? Make sure he’s okay, Dictatious was carrying him and they took a spill.” 

“No wonder y’all’re scratched up, must’ve been a hard one.” Crook didn’t seem surprised. “Not a worry darlin, I’ll get the kid home. Go say hi to Graw’Nah for me!” 

“Of course. Oh, and Crook, please keep an eye on Market entrances.” Virepa was strangely both very polite and just as monotone as they’d always been. “If you see a muck covered krubera, don’t let her in.” 

“Her name is Usurna.” Dictatious mumbled. Crook made a sound of faint surprise, possibly recognizing the krubera Queen’s name. It was hard to tell without seeing his face. 

“Sure thing, Virepa.” Crook’s voice was deeply serious. “I’ll make sure nothin gets in ain’t s’pposed ta. Y’all go see Graw’Nah, get some food in ya.” His voice softened. “And get a damn bell! Ain’t right, no bells on in Graw’Nah’s Market!” He laughed and Dictatious listened as he picked up Faber with zero difficulty, a clue as to exactly how large the troll was. 

Dictatious waited until the troll’s footsteps were faint down a tunnel before speaking up. 

“Bells?” He waved a hand around until he found the side of the Gyre wheel, pulling himself to his feet shakily. His legs didn’t want to hold him up after that mad sprint. 

“Market Tradition.” Virepa was back to toneless again. Fortunately Dictatious was slowly figuring out how to pick out their cues from their voice. “Graw’Nah wears a lot of ornaments and bells on her horns. Since she essentially founded this town, and everyone named it after her, everyone living here wears bells somewhere as a way to honor her.” There was the rustle of cloth from them. “I don’t wear mine when out and about. Too noisy.” A faint jingle of a bell rang and Dictatious tilted his head curiously. 

“I’d participate but I don’t exactly have any at the moment.” He commented dryly. He could hear the faint tingle every time they so much as shifted. 

“Not a problem, a dozen trolls will offer you a bundle before we get to her cave.” Virepa threw back. “It’s on the opposite side of the market. Not a terribly long walk, it’s not a big town, but you’ll get interrogated the entire time. New trolls aren’t common.” 

“And yet you have a Gyre station?” Dictatious raised an eyebrow, finally feeling steady enough to begin climbing down from said Gyre. They were typically located only in larger troll populations. Anyone needing to get somewhere more rural would have to walk. 

“We’re something of a stopping point, underneath the human state of Texas.” They said, following him at a reasonable distance. “Usually we get either tourists, trolls who want to join in the Arena fights, trolls looking to hire our blacksmith, or trolls looking for  _ me.  _ Fortunately,” Virepa’s voice was venomous underneath a veil of calm. “No troll living here will admit where I live and the residential tunnels are hard to navigate.” 

Dictatious heard a quiet mumble of activity up ahead of them. Virepa stepped up next to him, leading by a single step. 

It was certainly a quieter market than he’d ever been to, most voices pleasantly quiet and not fighting to be heard over each other. Dictatious could hear the sounds of a rowdy pub only distantly and a faint hint of cat smell drifted through the air. It didn’t even sound like there were more than one or two trolls roaming the street. 

“Hey look Stehso, a cousin of yours?” A voice joked when they got closer. 

“Every time!” There was the sound of a thrown object accompanying an irritated female voice, probably Stehso. “Every time a troll of my tribe walks into this market you ask if we’re related! If you pull this  _ one more time  _ I’m never selling you a hat again, mark my words!” The first troll yelped in time to the thunk of a successful hit. There was muffled muttering and Dictatious heard her clear her throat. “Here-” A jingling sound- 

Virepa must have caught something midair, because there was the sound of a jingle meeting stone hand and they cleared their throat disapprovingly. “He’s blind, Stehso. Not helpless, but do  _ not  _ throw things at him.” 

“I’ll giva ya a heads up next time, alright?” Stehso grumbled but didn’t say anything else. 

“What did she throw?” Dictatious muttered, trying to smile pleasantly in the direction he’d heard her voice. 

Virepa pressed something into one of his hands. Dictatious felt it over curiously, then laughed. 

It was a walnut sized bell. 

“Told you.” 

“So you did.” Dictatious snorted in amusement and held onto it for now. He didn’t have anything to fasten it with, or an idea of what to fasten it  _ to.  _

“Hey Virepa! Heard you left in a hurry, everything alright?” A cheerful voice called out. 

“Everything is a disaster and the world will end of consumption.” 

“Same as always then?” The other laughed. “Hello there, sorry to ignore you, name’s Goate!” There was a faint jingle of a bell. Dictatious liked this bell thing, it made it much easier to recognize when trolls were moving around him. 

“Dictatious.” He moved his head faintly in the direction of Goate’s voice. 

“Aw shucks, you don’t have any bells yet?” Goate sounded genuinely put out. 

“He literally got here five minutes ago.” Virepa deadpanned. 

“No excuse!” Goate said cheerfully. “Come on over here, Dictatious, you can look over some of my merchandise!” A faint pause. “Don’t be afraid to look it over with your hands, of course, no troll can get a real idea of something until he’s held it.” 

“How tactful.” Dictatious snorted. 

“I try.” Goate sounded like he was smiling. 

“May as well go find something, we won’t get anywhere otherwise.” Virepa sighed grouchily. 

“Fantastic!” There was the clopping of clumsy hooves and Goate gently touched a hand to the back of Dictatious’s arm, guiding him along but not actively shoving him. It was a nice change of pace at least. “Here, I see you have some lovely earrings there, perhaps some small bell earrings? Subtle, though I’ve been told bells in your ear take a moment to get used to, so it may not be best-” 

In the end with Goate’s very enthusiastic approval - and insistence he not pay for them, not when  _ everyone  _ in the Market had a bell - Dictatious did indeed pick out some small bell earrings. He didn’t bother trying to swap out his earrings at the moment and just hooked them into the loops of his originals. His ear was heavier, and the jingle was distracting, but they were small enough they weren’t very loud. 

He made a note to come back and inspect some of Goate’s other merchandise later, the troll had a bizarre collection of nick nacks that caught his attention and he wanted more time to examine them. However the entire time Goate rambled excitedly about bells Dictatious could hear Virepa’s feet tapping impatiently outside his stall. It was better that he hurry it up for now and perhaps stop by later. 

Virepa ushered him back along their previous trail a little bit, through a small back tunnel. They muttered something that sounded vaguely like threats to the trolls that kept distracting them. 

“Through here’s the food court, to borrow the human term that’s been floating around recently.” Virepa mumbled. “If you’re hungry don’t bother stopping, Graw’Nah feeds every troll that enters her cave.” 

“Why in such a rush?” Dictatious huffed, legs not wanting to hurry at quite the speed Virepa’s wanted to. He was  _ tired.  _ And indeed rather hungry. 

“Sorry.” They slowed down reluctantly. “I don’t appreciate being distracted when I’m  _ busy. _ Also, I’d rather go back to my cave and hide in my nest until the world stops spinning.” 

“Wouldn’t we all.” Dictatious grumbled, flicking his ear on reflex. He jumped at the surprise jingle but relaxed quickly after. It was rather... nice. Even though he thought the jingle would get annoying in his ear after some time, it was more calming than anything else. A constant source of noise to keep his attention from spiraling. 

The walk through the food court was undisrupted. Dictatious could smell cat, and a little bit of rodent, in between bits and pieces of many forms of troll cuisine. It smelled  _ divine  _ and made his stomach churn nauseatingly. 

Then began the  _ stairs.  _

Up one flight, then another, then another. The air evened out and he began to smell the cool metallic hint of water. The sounds of vaguely splashing and slowly trickling water soon surrounded them. 

“The Pools.” Virepa explained bluntly, noticing his curious sniffing. “River trolls and some of the more aquatic inclined trolls live up here.” 

“You’re the world’s best tour guide, certainly.” Dictatious grunted slightly and realized his legs were shaking. Was he really so pitiful to be that weakened by a run and a few flights of stairs? 

“We’re almost to Graw’Nah’s cave, thankfully she doesn’t live at the top of the pools.” Virepa didn’t comment on his snark. Dictatious resisted the urge to huff. 

The sound of the market surprisingly came back into focus, distantly. When Dictatious remarked on it Virepa paused. 

“I… never stopped to listen.” They said, sounding… surprised. “It makes sense Graw’Nah would like the faint background noise. She’s rather fond of all the trolls here.” 

“As the leader I would assume so.” Gunmar and changelings were outliers and should not be considered. 

There was a faint exhale and Dictatious was surprised to hear a faint  _ fondness  _ in Virepa’s voice. Had they actually  _ chuckled  _ a bit? 

“Less of a leader and more of a matriarch.” Virepa said. “She meets  _ every  _ troll to walk into her Market, and a few other creatures. Some thousands of years ago Graw’Nah was a warrior and a leader of many trolls… over time, she collected one after another into her own extended family. After a while there became too many for them all to meet in one place easily. Around then was when she retired, so many of her trolls settled around her. Her Market literally formed around her as a way for her extended family to remain in touch and be able to meet regularly. Most of the trolls won’t even accept payment from each other for wares it’s such a tight knit community.” 

Dictatious shuffled awkwardly, feeling rather… intimidated at the thought of dozens of trolls who knew each other so closely. It would be very easy for a mere bad word from this elderly troll to end in him being lynched. 

“Thousands of years? She’s truly that old?” He deflected from his main worry. 

“And a bit older!” A surprisingly spry voice cackled, then paused at the jump of shock Dictatious made. “Oh biscuits! I’m sorry about that darling, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” A click of hooves and a staff rang out. A  _ lot  _ of clattering and jingling accompanied her movements. Dictatious was surprised to find most of her noises were perhaps chest height to him at maximum. She was a very  _ small  _ troll. 

“It’s- fine?” Dictatious hung back as Virepa walked forwards. 

“Hello my grouchy one,” Graw’Nah, presumably, said as there was the faint clunk of stone meeting stone and excessive jingling. A forehead touch? Rather out of character for Virepa, from what he knew of them, and probably difficult considering height differences. “And you! You look somewhat familiar, but I don’t believe we’ve met, hm?” 

A hand grabbed one of his own and shook it gently. Blunt nails, larger hands, low center of balance. She felt like she was leaned over. He was getting better at understanding the information he received from his remaining senses. Dictatious got the feeling she was smiling at him from the light squeeze to his hand. 

“I’m Graw’Nah the Gracious, darlin. You’ve probably already figured out by now that this lil town here is pretty much chock full of my whelps.” She chuckled with an elderly wheeze. 

“So I’ve been told, I am Dictatious Galadrigal.” Dictatious said gracefully. “It’s a lovely town, from what I can hear.” 

“Oh I doubt you got much of a tour, Virepa’s not one for seeing the sights.” There was the faint clack of wood on stone (along with a  _ truly  _ horrendous amount of clattering, did she have things hung on her staff as well?) and the tiny troll  _ tutted.  _

Had she just  _ smacked the Oracle _ with a walking stick? 

“I do love this grouchy darling but they’re not very friendly! If you’re hanging around for a while I’d love to have one of my other whelps give you a better tour.” She sounded so  _ genuine  _ and  _ soft  _ it was driving Dictatious crazy.  _ Nobody  _ was that sincere and friendly. 

“Ah- perhaps, if my stay is very long. Currently I don’t know how long I will be in your marvelous town.” Dictatious resisted the urge to fidget and clasped his hands in front of him, wishing he had a staff of his own to hold onto. It would at least make navigating easier. 

“Oh yes! Are you two in a hurry? I know Virepa tends to be fussy about business-” Graw’Nah fretted. 

“No, Graw’Nah, we are not.” Virepa said reluctantly. “We are both tired and wish to rest but there is nowhere we need to be that cannot wait.” 

“Why didn’t you say something? You stubborn grouch of an Arak! We could be sitting down inside relaxing, you goof.” There was another soft thunk of wood on stone and Graw’Nah scolded Virepa the entire time she fussed the two into her cave. 

Dictatious couldn’t tell much about it, only that it had room for larger trolls but only because the clutter was pushed up to the side. He resisted the urge to explore any of the objects covering the walls only out of the urge to not be accused of snooping or stealing. He needed to make a good impression on this troll. 

“Here, come sit down Dictatious, do you like mushrooms? I just love stinkhorn tea, I’ll get you a cup to try - you do like the jellyshrooms more, right Virepa?” 

“Yes Graw’Nah.” Virepa sat down in a chair and Dictatious felt his way around as Graw’Nah jingled and clattered off somewhere. 

“Well she’s certainly…” Dictatious tapped his fingers together, unsure if he should continue with that sentence. 

“Yes, she is.” Virepa said without pause.

* * *

The ‘tea’ ended up being delicious, if entirely the wrong consistency to be called tea. Graw’Nah had also insisted on feeding them and Dictatious had been forced by her sheer politeness to gnaw idly on scraps of old leather, trying to ignore the feeling that he would be horribly nauseous later. At least the ‘tea’ seemed to help. 

After very little coaxing she heard the story of Virepa and Faber’s trip to the remains of Heartstone Trollmarket, where they had picked up Dictatious and fled from some rabid troll. That was the gist of what Virepa had said, anyways. They did not give the whole story and Graw’Nah did not ask. Dictatious got the feeling from the lack of suspicion or mistrust that the majority of trolls here knew better than to ask questions of Virepa. What Virepa said was what there was and Graw’Nah certainly didn’t seem inclined to ask for details. 

She didn’t even ask  _ why  _ Virepa had taken their apprentice to Trollmarket in the first place. 

The elder troll sounded  _ ancient  _ and melancholy when she found out where they’d been, though. Something in her voice was  _ tragic. _ Dictatious vowed to  _ never  _ ask her why she was so distraught about Trollmarket’s fall because that sounded like a  _ lot  _ of emotions he didn’t want to deal with. He also didn’t want her knowing at  _ all  _ what his own part was in it. 

Though he had reason to believe she knew anyways. Graw’Nah had asked simple questions, the type one would expect from a kindly old troll who enjoyed visitors. But by the time that he left Dictatious had a sinking feeling that he’d just been tested in some subtle way he’d never had to deal with before. How does one escape an interrogation when it was done with  _ kindness?  _

“I’m sure Virepa can have use for you for now.” Graw’Nah had said partingly, a smile in her voice. 

It wasn’t permission to stay. 

But it wasn’t ‘get out of my town’ either, so Dictatious was just going to have to live with it. He wouldn’t survive Usurna’s wrath living in Arcadia. The town was too open, too vulnerable. Even with the ‘Trollhunters’ left behind he doubted their ability to keep things from going south. 

Oh they’d pull off some desperate miracle to fix the problem in the end, it was quite their  _ specialty  _ at this point, but their history had a marked lack of  _ preventing  _ a problem before it started. And Dictatious was not about to gamble his already failing body on the promises of children’s good will. 

Better he  _ possibly  _ be kicked out of Graw’Nah’s Market than stay in Arcadia and die there anyways. That fact that here, at least, he served  _ some  _ use to someone… well, it wasn’t even a choice for him. 

Dictatious was certain he was quite the broody figure, shuffling along blindly behind Virepa through the ‘residential halls’. It was a long walk. 

A  _ long  _ walk. 

“I see why you were more inclined to go straight home, rather than deal with this walk  _ after  _ climbing a ridiculous amount of stairs.” Dictatious tripped over a rock and cursed under his breath. 

Virepa only touched a hand slightly to the underside of his elbow to balance him when he couldn’t catch himself. They removed their hand the moment he had his balance back. 

“It’s worse for some trolls, who live so far out that the tunnels extend a day’s walk.” Virepa said idly. 

_ “Why?”  _ Dictatious raised his hands up in exasperation. 

“Primarily because they need the space for agricultural pursuits, experiments, or large groups of children.” Virepa had a note to their voice that indicated they agreed with his frustration. “Usually there’s trolls providing carting services, but we seem to have hit one of the few times that they are either all busy or asleep themselves.” They sighed slightly. 

Come to think of it, Dictatious hadn’t heard any other trolls around after passing back through the ‘market’ and past the Gyre station. It was remarkably silent. The already quiet sounds of the market were nonexistant as of some time ago. 

“You should have a walking stick, or a staff of some sort.” Virepa said mildly, an odd…  _ sound  _ to their voice. As if they were  _ expecting  _ him to have one. Dictatious’s spine tingled. 

“Oh?” He said wonderingly, wishing he could  _ see  _ them to get some sort of visual cue. This didn’t sound like the incident earlier when they’d Spoken to him but it didn’t sound  _ normal  _ either. “I’ve tried keeping walking sticks, but they always end up lost, stolen, or broken.” Dictatious huffed. “It’s annoying.” He was fairly certain Tobias’s  _ gnome  _ was responsible but the boy declared his pest innocent. 

Virepa’s feet stumbled slightly. “Did you- ah. Oh dear.” Their voice changed and turned oddly loud and crisp. “Dictatious, I appear to be experiencing some form of auditory ‘vision’ and I can’t hear anything except the sounds of some massive creature breaking some large building to pieces… at least, that is what it sounds like. It’s rather tame as far as auditory visions go but I cannot hear you.” 

“And I cannot  _ see _ YOU.” Dictatious said with frustration, hands going up and rubbing his eyes. They ached quite a lot today.

If Virepa had to deal with their senses randomly being occupied by visions, no  _ wonder  _ they were rather cranky when bothered about it. Somehow, Dictatious hadn’t expected their visions to just…  _ hijack  _ their senses like that. He thought it was all something more like the dramatic episode from earlier where the entire world seemed to halt and center around the Oracle’s words. 

“I’m going to assume you said something nonconstructive and hope it was not useful, because while I can still see I cannot hear you.” Virepa said blankly. “Will you be capable of following me solely by hearing? I will likely be too distracted listening for further information to speak.” 

Dictatious nodded, waving a hand in their direction. He’d be fine. Their footsteps were small but highly noticeable in an echoing tunnel. They tended to waver back and forth somewhat but had no difficulty leading Dictatious back to their cave. Both of them trailing hands against the wall perhaps looked a bit ridiculous but he couldn’t see them being ridiculous so he didn’t care. 

All Dictatious cared about when they  _ finally  _ arrived was that he was shoved towards a soft surface and then Virepa’s feet tapped away immediately. They didn’t say anything and soon Dictatious was left alone in a strange cave with nothing but his thoughts. 

For once, he fell asleep easily without ending up in a circle of negative thoughts and nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think losing ur kingdom and being betrayed by your loyal soldiers and then drowning in fuckin tar (? what is that stuff) is exactly going to leave Usurna the picture of sanity 
> 
> Stehso isn't actually related to him her friends are just shitheads. She's the same tribe as Blinky and Dictatious, but she's v grouchy and sells hats bcz they live underneath Texas and the trolls there think humans are the mcfucking Cutest things 
> 
> (subtly slides in my hcs about troll emaciation,,,,,) 
> 
> Graw'Nah is literally an old southern belle granny, and when she smiles at you and threatens you it's terrifying. Also, she collects a million things and children is one of those million things. She's used to Virepa having visions and going doing some weird shit because of it 
> 
> I was trying so hard to angle it towards them holding hands in that last bit to 'stick together' but realized rn it's out of character and unnecessary and *sigh* it'll have to wait for later 
> 
> Thank you guys for reading and I hope y'all are staying safe and healthy! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading! Go ahead and check out my tumblrs @weregreatatcrime and @grawnahs-market for more troll stuff!


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